


I Do Spy (Some Marks Of Love In Her)

by BillieShears, Ravenclawsome



Series: Spy AU [1]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawsome/pseuds/Ravenclawsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John will stop at nothing to take all of MESSINA down. If I leave, he’ll kill me.”</p>
<p>“If you stay,” Bea said softly, “I have to kill you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mega-thanks to llamalark, who prompted us with a Spy AU in the first place. lots of love!
> 
> general trigger warning for violence throughout the story. forewarned is forearmed!

MESSINA Headquarters was tucked discretely between a bank and a dentist’s office. To unsuspecting passers-by, it looked like an entirely unassuming accounting firm. The first set of doors led directly to an empty lobby, and from there, there was a second door that could only be opened by a key card. That door led to a room with an elevator, which could only be accessed by fingerprint recognition.

The elevator led to the basement level, where it opened up to a perfectly ordinary office space, filled with rows of brightly lit cubicles. The only thing separating it from any other office was the several million dollars worth of high tech gadgets and weaponry - at any given point, there were at least three different weapons within reach.

Beatrice had been an official member of MESSINA for two years, and had undergone a full year of intensive training before that. Espionage was in her blood - the Duke family had worked for the MESSINA organization for generations.

Her heart gave a little pang when she sat at her cubicle, Hero’s empty one directly in front of her, but she pushed that to the back of her mind, grabbing the small box that had been left on her desk.

 _Bea -_ _new communicator for you. let me know if you’re still having issues with feedback._ _\- Ursula_

She slipped the communicator - disguised as a watch - onto her wrist, pressing a few buttons, and popped in her earpiece.

“Lady Disdain to The Queen - do you copy?”

“Hey, Cupcake,” Meg’s voice came through loud and clear, “are you out on assignment?”

“Nah, just checking to see if my new communicator works,” She replied, typing out a quick email to Ursula, “and it sounds like it does, so hooray!”

“Oh, it’s actually good that you called,” Meg said, “Pedro’s looking for you, I just saw him ten minutes ago.”

“You know you’re supposed to use code names when we’re on these, right?” Bea smirked.

“Fine,” Meg sighed, “The Prince of MESSINA is looking for you. Better?”

“Much.”

“My pleasure. The Queen is out,” She chirped, and the line went dead.

Beatrice checked her email quickly before heading to Pedro’s office, tapping Ben’s empty desk out of habit as she went by. She recoiled immediately, pulling her hand back as though it had been burned.

When she got to Pedro’s office, she entered without knocking. He was sitting in front of his computer, frowning at something and stroking his chin, deep in thought.

“Hey, Bossman,” She grinned, hopping up on his desk, legs swinging over the edge. “Meg said you’ve got a new assignment for me. Perfect timing, too - things were getting kind of boring around here, with Hero retired and the Dickface gone.”

“Actually,” Pedro said grimly, glancing up from the computer, “that’s what this is about.”

“Hero?”

“Signor Mountanto, actually,” He said, and Bea wrinkled her nose.

“Benedick?” She repeated. “He quit. What do we care?”

“He didn’t quit,” Pedro corrected, sliding a folder across the desk to Bea, who began to flip through it, “he defected. He joined up with John.”

“ _What_?” Beatrice stared at the photos in the folder - Ben ducking into a seedy looking bar with Robbie following close behind, Ben and John getting into a cab, Ben and John shaking hands. “Why would he do this? What the hell is he thinking? After what just happened with Claudio, he _has_ to know how fucked up this whole thing is -”

“Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are. I never expected him to join up with ARAGON.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Track them? Pull some kind of double agent stuff? Because after what Hero did, they’re never going to believe I want to join -”

“It’s more serious than that,” He said. “Bea, Mountanto knows everything there is to know about this whole organization. We changed all the passwords and security systems after he left, but that doesn’t do anything to protect all the other intel he already has on us. As long as Ben is working for John, we’re completely vulnerable.”

“Do you really think he’d tell John anything?” Bea asked, doubtful. “He’s always been a dick, I just… I guess I just never imagined him as a traitor.”

“I don’t know, Beatrice,” Pedro said, “but John is an expert at getting what he wants out of people - we can’t risk it. I need you to handle this.”

“Okay.” Bea glanced down at the pictures, then back up at Pedro, nodding. “I’m on it. What do you need me to do?”

Pedro raked his hand through his hair, his eyes locked steady with Bea’s, unwavering.

“I need you to kill Ben.”

Bea’s stomach dropped, and her mind immediately started buzzing a mile a minute. Kill him? _Kill_ him? She’d killed people before, for the sake of the job, but they were different - ruthless politicians, war lords, vile criminals who’d done some of the sickest deeds imaginable - but even then, it was usually in an act of self defense. Pedro had always told them murder was to be an absolute last resort. And now he was asking her, point blank, to kill someone who, up until a few days ago, had been one of their teammates? No matter how much she hated him - and that was quite a lot, at the present moment - she didn’t want him _dead_.

“Bea?” Pedro waved a hand in front of her face, “Are you okay?”

She snapped to attention, nodding.

“I’m fine,” she said. She had to think about this logically: Ben had abandoned them. He’d abandoned them almost _immediately_ after Hero left, only to join the organization that caused her to leave in the first place. The organization that _Claudio_ , of all people, had worked for. The organization that Pedro’s half-brother ran - the one who’d been trying to bring them down since day one.

“Can I count on you?” Pedro asked. Bea took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” she said, then with more conviction: “yes. I’ll do it. You can count on me.” Pedro smiled at her, relieved.

“I always do,” he said.

***

Beatrice went immediately to the small house that she and Hero shared, and found her out in the garden, pruning the flowers. The irony was not lost on her: here she was, come to talk to her cousin about taking someone’s death in her own hands, all while Hero worked to cultivate new life in hers.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked, coming up behind her.

“That depends,” Hero smiled up at her, holding her hand up to shade her eyes from the bright sunshine, “is it a work issue?” Bea bit her lip.

“Yeah,” she confessed. Hero sighed, and turned back to the garden.

“Then you know I can’t.”

“Hero, come on, I _really_ need to talk to you,” Bea begged. “It’s about my latest assignment -”

“You know you aren’t allowed to tell me about this stuff anymore,” Hero said, covering her ears, “talk to Meg, talk to Pedro, talk to anyone but me!”

“I don’t want to talk to them, I want to talk to you,” Bea insisted, tugging Hero’s hands away from her head, “Come on, Hero, this is serious!” Hero squirmed away from her, jumping to her feet and running across the lawn, still covering her ears.

“It’s against the rules, Bea, you’re going to get us both in trouble -”

“Pedro asked me to kill Ben!”

Hero stopped dead in her tracks, hands falling to her side. She stared at Bea, shock written all over her face.

“What? No.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear away her confusion. “You can’t. Why? Why would he want to kill Ben for leaving and not me?”

“Because _you_ retired. _Ben_ joined the dark side.”

“John?” She asked, and Bea nodded. Hero looked so wounded, it made Bea’s blood boil all over again. “He joined _John?_ ”

“Yeah,” Bea nodded again, “So I need to kill him, before he tells them everything. Who knows what he’s already said? We’re not safe as long as Ben’s working for ARAGON.”

“I can’t believe he would do that.” Hero sank into a lawn chair, a dazed and far away look in her eyes.

“I know. Especially after Claudio -”

“Don’t,” Hero winced, “don’t say his name, Bea. Please. I don’t want to talk about that.”

Bea couldn’t blame her for that. She didn’t feel much like talking about it, either.

 

_When they arrived, Hero had blood smeared across her cheek and knuckles. Her shoulders were shaking, and the rain had plastered her hair against her face, clothes soaked to the bone. She was hunched over on her knees in front of Claudio’s limp body, curled up on the wet pavement._

_“Hero!” Bea cried, running to her and looking her over, “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”_

_“Team Blessed reporting. We’ve recovered the Jewel,” Ben announced into his communicator, before crouching down in front of Claudio, checking for a pulse._

_“Is he alive?” Hero asked, letting Beatrice pull her to her feet._

_“He is,” he confirmed, “but he needs immediate medical attention if you want him to stay that way.”_

_“I’ll call in an anonymous tip,” Pedro snapped over the headset, “just get the hell out of there.”_

_They ushered Hero into their car, leaving Claudio behind. They could hear the wailing sirens of an ambulance in the distance. Only then did it seem to hit her what had happened - she sobbed into Bea’s shoulder the whole way back to headquarters. It wasn’t until they were looking her over for wounds they might’ve missed earlier that she started talking._

_“He came to kill me,” She confessed. “John - John told him I was just pretending to care about him. That I was only with him to find out information, that I was going to double cross him. He wouldn’t listen to me, no matter what I told him. He came at me and I could just see it in his eyes - I just knew that he was never going to believe me. So I… I…”_

_“You were acting in self defense,” Ben said gently, “if he was really going to kill you, you did exactly what you had to do.”_

_“But the sick thing is, I couldn’t stop myself. I just kept thinking about how he betrayed me. He was going to kill me, without even questioning it - just because of John! And I got angrier and angrier - he even begged for mercy, at one point, but I couldn’t stop. I kept going, until he stopped moving.”_

_“You did what you had to do, Hero,” Beatrice said, echoing Ben, but Hero shook her head, a fresh batch of tears falling._

_“I almost killed him.”_

_“He was going to kill you first. Hero, look at me.” Bea cupped Hero’s face in her hands, tilting it upwards and locking eyes with her. “It was life or death. If you didn’t react the way you did, he would’ve killed you.”_

_“I couldn’t stop myself, Bea,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I went too far.”_

_The next day, she calmly walked into Pedro’s office, turned in her gear, and left MESSINA for good._

 

“You can’t kill him,” Hero said, “Bea, he’s your… he’s _Ben_.”

Bea looked out across the garden, letting her gaze travel from flower to flower before it settled on her cousin, who was waiting for her response, her concern evident.

John had convinced Claudio to try and kill Hero that night. It was only a matter of time before he convinced Ben to do the same. In their business, that was the name of the game: kill or be killed. She let her fingers brush against the barrel of the gun strapped to her belt, holding Hero’s gaze.

“I don’t really have a choice.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Benedick Hobbes sidled into John’s office, glancing around the dark room for any sign of life.

“Uh, hello?” he called, his voice echoing through the cavernous room. He still hadn’t quite gotten over how different ARAGON and MESSINA were. Where Pedro was all about professionalism and subtlety, Ben’s new HQ might’ve dropped out of a James Bond movie. Pipes stuck out from the walls at odd intervals, lighting was sparse, and Benedick could’ve sworn he’d seen a stray cat wandering through the halls.

“Hello, Signor Mountanto,” a voice called, making Benedick jump. The chair at the back of the office swiveled around to reveal The Master himself, John Donaldson. It was so overly dramatic, Benedick was almost surprised to see he wasn’t holding the cat from earlier.

“Hiya John,” Benedick said cheerily, “fancy seeing you here.”

John just stared at him, tiredly.

“It’s a nice office you’ve got,” Ben rambled, looking up at the high ceiling. “Bit dark, don’t you think?”

“No.” John said.

“Right,” Benedick cleared his throat. “You, uh, you called for me?”

“I did.” John pulled open one of his desk drawers, drawing out a black folder and setting it solidly on the desk in front of him. Benedick stepped forward, reaching for the folder, but John pulled it back.

“This is not going to be an easy job,” he warned. “An assassination. I need to make sure you’re ready for it.”            

“Come on John, look who you’re talking to!” Benedick said, a little offended. “I’m _Signor Mountanto_ , I’ve done assassinations without even trying.”

“As I’ve said before, running over birds with your car does _not_ count as an assassination,” John said, coolly.

“Oh, _ha ha_ ,” Benedick grumbled, crossing his arms. “The point is, I’m ready. What’s the assignment?”

John’s hand was still resting on the folder.

“This is the most important job I’ve asked you to do so far,” he explained. “If you can pull this off, if you _manage_ to pull this off, your place in this organization will be cemented.”

 

_Benedick was looking over last minute preparations for the Cornwall mission when he got the call._

_He stared at the screen, confused. He didn’t get a lot of calls, and when he did they were usually from Beatrice, asking why he hadn’t responded to her texts. But this call couldn’t be from her, the number was_ unknown _._

_“Hello?” Ben asked tentatively, holding the phone up to his ear._

_"Hello, Signor Mountanto,” came a crisp, low voice that nearly made him drop the phone._

_"_ John _?” he asked, in disbelief. “Is that… what… how did_ you _get my number?”_

 _“It’s not important,” John said. “What is important is that you_ don’t hang up on me _.”_

 _"What do you want?” Benedick asked, looking around the room frantically for something to defend himself with. Even speaking to John over the_ phone _made him feel venerable._

_“To talk,” he said, simply. “Nothing more than that, I promise you.”_

_“Well, I don’t want to talk to you,” Ben said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to throw this phone into the ocean.”_

“Wait,” _John commanded, and it was so intimidating that it actually made Ben cringe. “Just hear me out.”_

_“Hear you OUT?” Benedick said, disbelieving. “After everything you’ve done? We’re mortal enemies, John!”_

_"Oh please,” John scoffed. “Our organizations don’t get along, that’s true, but it’s nothing so dramatic as_ mortal enemies _. I’m sure you would do well here. ...We could make that happen, you know.”_

_Benedick was at a loss for words, a rare occurrence._

_“Are you… are you trying to offer me a_ job _?” He managed, finally. “With_ you _?”_

_“You’d be an asset,” John said, like he hadn’t just asked Benedick to do the most insane thing in the world. “We could truly use your skills.”_

_“And you think I’m just going to fall for that?” Benedick asked, pacing the room. “After years of training to fight against you? After everything you’ve done to_ Hero _? Not a chance.”_

_“I can see you’ve certainly got your mind set,” John said, lazily. “Just know that the door is open for you, if you ever run out of ties at MESSINA.”_

_Ben stared down at the case file he’d been examining. Scrawled across the front in two separate but equally messy handwritings, it read:_

 

_Property of BEATRICE DUKE and BENEDICK HOBBES_

_HANDS OFF, LOSERS_ _._

 

_“Sorry John,” he said, smiling. “Not a chance.”_

 

Benedick took a deep breath.

“John, I swear to you, I can do this.”

John nodded, then slowly pushed the folder across the desk. Benedick picked it up eagerly, opening it to see exactly who he was supposed to -

_No._

“Lady Disdain,” John said. “My dear brother’s right hand man.”

_No, no, no._

“It’s an integral step to taking down their organization,” John continued. “The information you’ve supplied us has been helpful, if alarmingly disjointed. I certainly assumed you’d know more about their security system than you do.”

“What can I say, I was too busy going on epic missions to pay much attention to passwords and key cards,” Benedick said. Or he tried to say that, anyway. What he _actually_ said was nothing, his mouth hanging open as he stared town at Beatrice’s picture in the black folder.

“Benedick,” John said, sharply, pulling Ben out of his stupor. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” Benedick managed. “Yeah, no I am. It’s just… you caught me off guard is all.”

John glared at him, coldly.

“Never forget who you’re working for, Hobbes,” he said. “Pedro and his little minions are our biggest threat right now, and I need you to help me take them down. If not…” John’s eyes met Ben’s, maliciously. “Forgive me if I don’t completely trust you, but given your background with Pedro I can’t help but wonder if you’ve still got ties.”

“I don’t!” Ben insisted. “I mean, I used to, but…”

“Then prove it,” John pressed. “Prove to me that you can do this, and you will have my trust.”

Benedick stared at John, then down at the folder. There was too much spinning around in his head, he wished he could leave the room and have a chance to think.

Beatrice’s picture glared up at him, her hair tied back and a sniper rifle held firmly in her hands. Her voice came unbiddeninto his brain, _“Why would I needlessly risk my life when I can just get someone before they even see me? Too bad you’re such an awful shot.”_

He felt his stomach clench. She’d said things like that so often. He used to think they were just jokes, but looking back it felt colder. Meaner. Why would she say something like that to a teammate? A frie-

No. Whatever they had been, they were not friends now. As far as he was concerned, she might as well be a stranger.

John was staring at him.

_"You’re just scared of it, Ben. Put your mind in front of your feelings for once.”_

“I’ll do it,” he said. John grinned, and it was so alarming Benedick hoped he would never do it again.

“Good. Let’s get to work.”

 

***

 

Ben left John’s office feeling dazed. Had that really just happened?

“Hey Mountanto,” someone called, and Benedick spun around, looking for the source.

“Robbie?” He called. “That you, man?”

“Obviously,” Robbie said, stepping out of the shadows, twirling his knife in one hand. That was another problem with John’s HQ, _far_ too many shadowy corners. Ben’s first day there, Cora kept startling him by jumping out from the darkness. Even now, he still felt a twinge of anxiety walking through the halls.

“How was your meeting with the big boss?” Robbie asked, his broad shoulders dwarfing Ben’s lanky frame.

“Ah, you know,” Benedick mumbled. “Eventful.”

“Heard he wants you to kill that bitch from MESSINA,” Robbie said, and Benedick had to clench his fists tight to avoid hitting him. “Wish it was me. Need to repay her for the black eye she gave me two weeks ago.”

 _Good for her,_ Benedick thought, restraining himself from giving Robbie another one.  

But no… he couldn’t feel like that anymore. Robbie was his teammate now, not Beatrice.

The thought made Benedick cringe. There was no doubt in his mind that Robbie would gladly throw Ben under the bus if it meant saving his own skin. That wasn’t how members of the same team were supposed to work. At least, as far as Benedick understood it.

 

                       

_“Hey dickface,” Beatrice smiled, approaching Ben’s desk and tapping it absentmindedly. “Bossman wants to see us in his office.”_

_“About code names?” Benedick asked, his eyes lighting up._

_“I’m like 97% sure it’s about code names,” Beatrice said, unable to stop a grin from spreading across her face. “You picked one for me, right?”_

_“Of course!” Ben scoffed. “How could I forget?” Beatrice let out a sigh of relief._

_“Good, because I’ve thought about yours for a long time, so prepare yourself.”_

_“Joke’s on you, love,” Benedick said, leaning back in his chair. “MY code name for you is so good, you might pass out. It could literally kill you.”_

_“Well, we can’t have that,” Beatrice smiled._

_“If I have to call you guys over here one more time, you can forget the code names,” Pedro’s voice buzzed in over their communicators. “Come on agents, let’s talk.”_

_The two of them shared manic grins._

_“Race you?” Beatrice asked, a mischievous glint in her eye._

_“What?” Benedick pretended to look shocked. “I would never do something so—“ And then he was off, dashing past Bea to reach Pedro’s door._

_“You dirty cheater!” she laughed, catching up to him outside the office and punching his arm. “You KNOW I’m faster.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Benedick said, pushing open the door._

_“There you are,” Pedro said, ruffling his hair agitatedly. “Where’s the race, guys?”_

_“Oh no, it’s…”_

_“We just wanted to…”_

_“Actually, I don’t want to know,” Pedro said, rolling his eyes with a little smile and settling down in his chair as Bea and Ben both took seats across from him. “So, you two wanted to talk code names?”_

_“Yes,” Beatrice said, still a little breathless from sprinting after Benedick._

_“Well, it’s definitely about time you got them,” Pedro said, checking their files. “So you’ve chosen ones you like on the list then, or…”_

_“Ah, actually we were wondering if we could choose them_ off _the list. For each other.” Benedick explained. Pedro did a double take, glancing up at them in confusion._

_“Why?” He asked. Beatrice and Benedick shared a look._

_“You know, we thought…”_

_“It’s just sort of a fun…”_

_“You know what, that sounds fine to me,” Pedro said, talking over the both of them. “What exactly did you have in mind?”_

_“You first,” Beatrice said, crossing her arms expectantly._

_“Okay, here it is,” Benedick said, holding up his hands dramatically. “Beatrice Duke, code name: Lady Disdain.”_

_Beatrice cracked up, punching him in the arm again._

_“You loser! This is because I made fun of you for eating that mango skin, isn’t it?”_

_“You are a generally disdainful person!” Benedick argued, grinning back at her. Pedro just looked confused._

_“Okay, normally code names start with ‘the…’” he began, but Beatrice cut him off._

_“No, here’s mine for you Ben, are you ready?_ Signor Mountanto. _”  She leaned back in her chair, cackling to herself._

 _“What does_ that _mean?” Benedick asked, bemusedly, as Beatrice continued to laugh uncontrollably._

_“It means…” she gasped, “it means you’re shit at fencing!” And then she lost it all over again._

 

One of these days, he was going to remember to google that.

“Weeeell, nice talking to you Robbie,” Benedick said, trying his best to sidestep him.

“Woah, not so fast,” Robbie put an arm out, nearly clotheslining Ben in the process. “I thought we were training today.”

“Right, yeah we are, I was just thinking of getting some food first?” Benedick said, nervously. Robbie glared at him. “Or, now. Now is good,” he amended.

The two of them made their way to the training room, a big gymnasium-like structure at the center of the compound. Even here it was dimly lit, which Benedick considered to be a pretty big health hazard, regardless of John’s ‘movie villain aesthetic’. Most everyone else was out on assignment, so the whole space was empty. Just him and Robbie, sparring in a dark, cold room for an hour. _Lucky me,_ he thought, miserably.

“You want to practice disarming me again?” Robbie smirked. “For a guy who’s supposed to be some ‘master’ at hand-to-hand combat, you’re still awful at that.”

“Whatever,” Benedick shrugged. Robbie rolled his eyes.

“That’s your problem, Mountanto. If you don’t care, you can’t win.”

“I thought you were all about pushing down your feelings.” Benedick said, watching Robbie sharpen his knife. “Isn’t that what spies are supposed to do?”

“I’m not talking about _love,_ or any of that shit,” Robbie said, holding his knife up to examine it. “You saw where that got The Count.” He made a face. “Smart guy, good agent, but one little girl bats her eyes at him and suddenly he’s the worst on the team. I was almost glad when she went batshit on his ass, made him retire for good. No, what I’m talking about is anger, frustration, all those things _you’re_ bottling up.”

“What are you, my therapist?” Benedick deadpanned. Robbie looked over at him in surprise.

“You have a _therapist_?”

“Never mind.”

 _“Honestly, that guy is so dense, it’s a miracle he can walk upright.”_ He heard Beatrice say, in the back of his mind. _“Exactly,”_ he’d said, throwing her a water after training. _“You’d think he would have to drag his head along behind him, it’s so full of rocks.”_

“Please get out of my head,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Robbie asked, getting into position.

“Nothing,” Benedick took a deep breath and moved up to face him. “What are we doing?”

“I already told you, _disarming,_ ” Robbie said, exasperatedly. “Pay attention.”

Before Benedick could ask any follow up questions, Robbie had already sprung. He dashed to the left, turning quickly and pressing his knife’s point up to Ben’s stomach.

“You’re dead, Hobbes,” Robbie sneered. “And on the first go, too.”

“I wasn’t ready!” Benedick insisted, grabbing his wrist and twisting out of reach so quickly that it took Robbie a few seconds to register what had happened. “Come on, try it again.”

They tried it several more times, but inevitably the knife always ended up pressed to Ben’s torso. The fourteenth time, Robbie actually sliced him.

“ _Fuck_ , bro,” Benedick said angrily, clutching at the shallow gash left in his side. “What was that for?”

“You’re not focusing!” Robbie groaned, sounding bored. “It’s almost too easy to take you down.

“So you decided to cut my stomach open?”

“Always go for the stomach, Mountanto,” Robbie advised. “Hurts like hell.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Benedick said, bitterly. “We’re done here, I think.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!” Robbie said, as Benedick marched towards the door. “You can’t act like a little bitch about every single thing, you know!”

“Fuck you,” Benedick said, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear.

 _"What an asshole,”_ he remembered Beatrice say.

“Don’t get me started on _you_ ,” he grumbled, finding his way down the hall to the infirmary and slamming the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Beatrice needed coffee, and she needed it now. She’d been dozing at her desk all morning. She hadn’t been sleeping well since Pedro had given her the assignment two weeks earlier - if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t been sleeping well since Ben left.

She trudged over to the coffee machine, willing herself to ignore the box of tea next to the electric kettle, both of which had remained untouched since Ben had quit. She snatched the coffee pot and the mug designated just for her, barely noticing as Pedro entered the room.

“Is there enough for me?” He asked, jerking his head at the coffee pot, just as she poured the last droplets into her mug.

“Crap. Sorry.”

“No problem. I can make more.”

She watched him fill it with water, changing out the coffee filter. He looked just as much of a wreck as she did, bags under his eyes, shoulders sagging.

“Here,” She held her mug out towards him, “we can share mine while we wait for more.” He took it gratefully, taking a long sip. They passed it back and forth in companionable silence, the coffee pot slowly filling behind them.

“What’s with this piece of crap anyway?” She joked, nudging Pedro with her elbow. “We’re surrounded by high tech gadgets left and right - nothing but top of the line electronics as far as the eye can see - and yet we’re stuck with what I assume is the world’s first coffeemaker. What gives?”

“It’s nostalgic! My mum gave it to me as an eighteenth birthday present,” He defended.

“Pedro, that was three years ago!” The machine sputtered and gurgled, and Pedro winced.

“Okay, so maybe it’s time for an upgrade.”

“I’m just saying, surely we can afford a new one,” She laughed, “it’s not like our services come cheap.”

The dripping coffee slowed to a stop, and Pedro grabbed the pot, refilling Bea’s mug first and then one for himself.

“Where’s everyone else?” Bea asked, adding a heavy splash of cream to her own coffee before passing the container off to him.

“Meg’s out on an assignment,” He replied. “She’ll be back in a few days. The Watch are out on recon. Ursula and Balthazar are at some kind of tech conference. I don’t know what it’s about, but Ursula swore when they came back, they’d have all kinds of new stuff for us to try out.”

“It’s too quiet around here,” Bea sighed. “It used to be impossible to get a minute alone, everyone running around doing something. But with Hero and -” She stopped herself before she could say any more than that. “- with the others gone, it’s boring nearly all the time. There’s no one to fill the day with, you know?”

“You could fill your days with me,” he offered, and Bea laughed him off, shaking her head.

“Very funny,” She smirked, but then she noticed Pedro’s whole demeanor shift, his playful smile gone, and her eyes widened. “Oh, shit, Pedro - I’m sorry. I thought that was a joke.”

“It’s fine,” He said, shrugging her off, “it was nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just that I - I’ve never really thought about -”

“I get it, Bea.”

“No, really. You’re great, you’re one of the best people I know, I mean it, it’s just that I’ve never thought about you as -”

“How’s your assignment going?” He interrupted abruptly, his stare suddenly cold and serious. Bea stiffered.

“It’s - it’s going,” She stammered. “The opportunity just hasn’t presented itself yet.”  

“Time is ticking, Beatrice. It’s already been two weeks since he joined up with ARAGON.”

“I know that, but it’s just -”

“Not everything is a joke, you know,” He snapped, “Every second you put this off is another second you’re putting us all in danger. You need to consider more than just _yourself_ here, Bea.”

“I know that, Pedro!” She cried, “But it’s not as easy as you seem to think it is!”

“Just get it done,” He ordered, shoving past her, “ _Today,_ Bea. I mean it.”

***

She left immediately after that.

Pedro stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him, and she certainly wasn’t going to stick around and subject herself to more of that. She walked aimlessly down the sidewalk, trying to calm down, but so far she’d had no luck. She was positively fuming - who the hell did Pedro think he was, talking to her like that? Of course she took the situation seriously. Ben leaving wasn’t a joke to her, no matter what Pedro seemed to think. If he wanted the job done so badly, he should’ve just taken care of it himself, not left it up to Beatrice to handle his dirty work for him.

He wasn’t wrong, though, and that was the worst part. Even if he’d been out of line, yelling at her like that, what he was saying was true: every day she let Ben live, she was putting the rest of them in danger. It became her responsibility the minute she took the assignment. She could have just as easily refused - but she’d never refused an assignment before, and she wasn’t about to start now. If any of them died because she couldn’t do her job, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

It was beginning to feel like she couldn’t trust anyone anymore. First Claudio had turned on Hero, then Ben had gone to work for their biggest rival, and now Pedro was acting like a complete asshole. She wasn’t allowed to confide in Hero anymore, now that she’d left MESSINA, and anyone else she’d want to talk to was away until further notice for one reason or another.

Things were different, when she’d had a teammate. There was always someone who had your back, always someone to give you exactly what you needed. She missed working in tandem with someone, and that only made her anger grow - Ben had already ruined everything, _everything_ , by leaving them, but even that wasn’t enough for him. Now, on top of everything else, he was putting all of their lives at risk. Thinking about it made her so angry, so filled with rage, that in that moment, she truly could have killed him.

And that’s when she saw him.

He was walking down the street, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, headphones in, bopping his head along to some song. Completely unsuspecting. She ducked into an alley, hiding just behind a dumpster,out of sight. She didn’t have her sniper rifle with her - she only brought it out for specific assignments, and she’d left in such a hurry earlier that it hadn’t occurred to her to load up on any of her usual weapons, but she had her glock holstered to her belt, and she whipped it out, taking care to aim directly for the back of Ben’s head.

She could do it, right now. The street was empty except for him. All she had to do was pull the trigger, and it would be over once and for all. She held the gun steady, taking deep, slowbreaths. _You can do this, Beatrice. It’s not like you’ve never done this before. It’s the same as any other job._

Except it wasn’t any other job. This was _Ben_. She didn’t have a history with anyone else she’d been assigned to kill. She couldn’t even look at him with a slew of memories coming back all at once, overwhelming her.

 

_“How’d you get to be such a good shot?” Benedick asked as they left the training room, both tired and sweaty from a few hours work. “We started sniper training at the exact same time! I think you’re cheating.”_

_“How_ dare _you?” Beatrice said, in mock anger. “I’m just better than you at everything, and you’re going to have to live with it.”_

_“The day I admit that, please do me a favor and use those cheating sniper skills of yours to shoot me,” Benedick laughed, “because clearly I will have gone insane.”_

_“Don’t be stupid,” Beatrice said, shoving him and laughing too, “teammates stick together, remember?”_

 

She could feel the beginnings of a sob catching in her throat. She had to do it, and she had to do it quick - he was getting away, nearly out of her sight line. _He’s the one who left,_ she told herself. _Do what you need to do._

She couldn’t watch - she shut her eyes, turned her face away, and pulled the trigger.

“What the hell!” She heard him yell, followed by incoherent shouts of pain. She sprang from the alley, running towards him on instinct. He was on the ground, clutching his leg and writhing in pain.

“Ben!” She yelled, sprinting the distance across the street and dropping by his side, “Shit, shit, shit - are you okay? Let me see!”

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He groaned, “What are you trying to do to me?!”

“I was _trying_ to kill you,” She said hotly, slapping his hand away from his leg, “Let me _see_.”

“Your aim has really gone to shit,” He said, wincing and turning away. Blood ran down his leg, pooling on the pavement. “Oh, wow, that’s, uh - that’s a lot of blood…”

“Don’t you fucking faint on me, Hobbes. Elevate your leg.”

“Oh my God!” A small crowd was gathering nearby, “Someone call an ambulance!”

“Fuck,” Bea cursed, “we can’t have a fucking ambulance come get you.”

“Are you kidding me? _I’ve been shot!_ ”

“Yeah, and if an ambulance comes here, that means we’re both in a _world of shit_ ,” She reminded him, “I just shot you! You probably have at _least_ one unauthorized weapon on you! If that ambulance shows up, we’re fucked. I have to get you out of here.”

“How? I can’t walk,” He pointed out, “ _someone fucking shot me_.”

“Just trust me.”

“Trust you? _You_ are the someone who just shot me!”

“Ben! Please!” She snapped, “You’re my fucking teammate, okay? _I need you to trust me_.”

“Okay, okay, I trust you,” He said, face growing paler by the second, “but only because that really… _really_ is an awful lot of blood…”

“I swear to God, don’t you dare faint,” she barked at him, but it was too late - he already had. She groaned, reaching into her belt and grabbing a smoke bomb. She threw it down, and while everyone in the gathering crowd began to scream and cough, she hoisted Ben on her shoulders, staggering into an alleyway.

 

***

 

He still wasn’t conscious by the time she’d gotten them back to his apartment, and by then, they were both covered in blood. She dropped him unceremoniously onto the couch, grabbing pillows and blankets and anything else she could get her hands on, stuffing it under his leg and elevating it to the best of her ability. She ran to his bathroom, digging around under the sink until she found the first aid kit, bringing it back to the couch and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Thank God you’re unconscious,” she muttered under her breath, working at his belt. She couldn’t get a good look at the wound while he was still wearing pants, and she had no choice but to tug them off of him, tossing them aside. “I can only imagine what kind of jokes you’d be making right now. _‘I knew you were just looking for an excuse to get into my pants.’_ Pfft. You wish.”

She took a damp, warm cloth and gently rinsed away some of the blood. It was only a surface wound, thankfully - the bullet had just grazed his calf, and though she’d taken out a good chunk, it didn’t seem to have affected his muscle tissue or bone.

“Such a baby,” She huffed, “acting like I’d completely maimed him or something…”

She grabbed tweezers from the kit, taking care to remove any shreds of fabric or shrapnel from the wound.

“At least those first response classes Pedro made us take were good for something,” She sighed, reaching for the rag and cleaning around the wound again, as carefully as she could manage. She reached for the bandages, and started wrapping his leg, snug but not too tight - just like they’d been taught. “Do you remember how much trouble we’d get in, because we’d always race to see who could wrap the bandage around the dummy quickest? And the woman running the training course got so upset. _Safety is never a race! Take your time and take care of your patient!_ We had to stay an hour longer than everyone else to prove we could do it right.”

“I remember,” he mumbled, voice hazy, “she was a pain in the ass. Never shot me, though.” Bea snapped to attention.

“How long have you been awake?” She demanded.

“Somewhere around your unflattering impression of me,” He said, “you’re right, though, that’s exactly the joke I was thinking of.”

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” she said, and it was like everything hit her all at once. Tears that she’d been fighting back all day came flooding out, unstoppable. “I can’t believe I did that. I could’ve killed you.”

“Not with aim like that you couldn’t,” He smirked. She smacked him in the arm, letting out a teary laugh.

“I promise, I’m not going anywhere until you’re better, okay? I’ll be right here. Whatever you need. Do you want tea? I can get you tea.”

“Tea would be nice,” He said, “and it _is_ the least you could do, considering your embarrassingly botched attempt to assassinate me.”

“Coming right up,” She said, jumping to her feet. She wiped at her eyes, heading for the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway, turning back to the couch. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Hey,” he grinned, “it’s going to take a lot more than that to kill me.”


	4. Chapter 4

“How did you even get us in here?” Benedick asked the next morning, lying on the couch with a pile of pillows propping up his bandaged leg. “I’m about ninety percent sure I locked the door before I left the house.”

“Used my grappling hook to break in through the window,” Beatrice said matter of factly, sweeping up the syrup on her plate with a bit of pancake and popping it in her mouth.

“Really?”

“No dumbass, your spare key was still under the welcome mat.”

“Oh.” He looked a little disappointed.

“It was hell to carry you here though,” she teased, grabbing both their plates and bringing them over to the counter. “What’s John been feeding you, orphaned children he lured in with his candy house?”

“Oh, _ha ha_ ,” Benedick said, a little nervously. They hadn’t talked about John, or anything serious, really, since Bea had shot him.He could tell they were both dancing around it, around _everything,_ but he was happy to play along for as long as she was. Hell, he was happy just to see her again. He kept catching himself staring.

John would be pissed if he knew.

Benedick watched Bea rinsing syrup off their plates, feeling guiltier every minute. She didn’t know what John had asked him to do, she had no idea. If she did, she definitely wouldn’t be there with him.

Would she?

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said. “I’d help clean up, only somebody shot me in the leg yesterday.”

“It’s always excuses with you, isn’t it?” She grinned, flicking water in his direction. It didn’t quite hit him, but she didn’t seem to care.

Beatrice turned off the faucet and walked over to sit by him on the couch, wiping her wet hands on her jeans. The night before she’d been contemplating buying new clothes to replace her bloodstained ones, when Benedick had pointed her to a drawer in his closet.

_“You still have a set of my clothes?” She said, her expression unreadable._

_“Technically_ you _left them here,” he said quickly. “In case of emergency, remember?”_

_“And you never… why do you still have them?”_

_“I don’t know, I sort of forgot they were there until you mentioned something.”_

It was TRUE, he really had forgotten, although he wasn’t sure if Bea believed him. They’d always kept things at each others houses, just in case. It was completely normal spy behavior.

Completely normal.

“Sooo,” he began. “How are you?”

Beatrice looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“How do you _think_?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I haven’t really heard from you.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Beatrice muttered.

“I mean,” Ben said, backtracking quickly. “You know what I mean.”

“Not really.”

They sat there awkwardly for a few seconds, Benedick working feverishly to think up something to say.

“How’s Hero?” He asked, figuring it was a safe enough topic. “Still retired?”

“I don’t know if that’s something I should tell you,” Beatrice said, and Benedick could already feel her walls going up. “Seeing as you’re no longer part of the team.”

“Bea…” he began, but he honestly didn’t have any way to argue with that. He _wasn’t_ part of the team anymore.   _In fact, dear Beatrice, I’m supposed to kill you. I_ promised _John I would kill you._

But if looking at her picture had made that idea difficult, staring at her face in the morning light made it damn near impossible.

No, who was he kidding. Made it absolutely unthinkable.

“Listen,” Beatrice said, stiffly. “I- I’m sorry I shot you, but that doesn’t change anything, okay? I mean, Pedro asked me… TOLD me to kill you.”

“So you’re still going to do it, then?” He asked. “Thanks for waiting until after breakfast I guess, but I feel like you definitely could’ve poisoned those pancakes. Missed opportunity, love.”

“Don’t.” Beatrice said, sharply “Don’t ever call me that.”

“Sorry,” Benedick said, quickly. He would’ve kicked himself if his leg hadn’t been so fucked up. “So... you really are going to kill me?”

“I…” she trailed off, looking uncomfortable. “He’s expecting me to.”

“Since when have you ever listened to Pedro?”

“Would you stop telling me what to do?” Beatrice shouted, making him jump. “ _You_ don’t get a say in this!”

“It’s my life!” he retorted. “I would certainly LIKE to have a say!”

“Oh my god, could you take this seriously for TWO SECONDS?”

“No, please explain to me why I don’t get to have an opinion on whether I live or die!”

“BECAUSE YOU LEFT,” Beatrice screamed at him, her voice breaking as she threw her fists down by her sides. “You LEFT ME,Ben, right when I-“ she broke off, breathing deeply. Benedick couldn’t believe his ears. Right when she… what?

“Beatrice,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled back.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, angrily. “I don’t… I can’t do this.” She stood up and started to walk away, her face in her hands.

“Bea, stop,” Ben said, struggling to push himself up on the couch. “Please don’t leave, I need to tell you…” but he trailed off at the look on her face.

“I just can’t be here right now, Ben,” she said, softly. “I can’t be anywhere near you.”

She left, walking into the bedroom and shutting the door with finality.

Benedick lay back on the couch, running his hands down his face and taking deep breaths. Beatrice was right, he really was a walking disaster. Why couldn’t he talk to her like a normal person, why did everything he said have to come out wrong?

 _This is just like last time,_ he thought, miserably. _Exactly like last time._

 

_“FOUR MONTHS, BEN,” Beatrice shouted, storming into Ben’s apartment, her expression murderous. “Four months planning and tracking and working our fucking hearts out to take this guy down, all for this ONE DAY, and you couldn’t even keep it together for four MINUTES.”_

_“You’re blaming ME for this?” Benedick yelled, following behind her and slamming the door. If the walls of his apartment hadn’t been reinforced for security purposes, they definitely would’ve been getting complaints from the neighbors.“Really, Beatrice? This is completely YOUR FAULT.”_

_“How, Benedick? HOW is this possibly my fault?”_

_“YOU MISSED!”_

_“Only because YOU couldn’t keep him distracted!” Beatrice threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “Honestly, this is just like you. You’re supposed to have my back!”_

_“I could say the same thing about you!”_

_The fire in Beatrice’s eyes raged._

_“I have always, ALWAYS had your back, Ben. Name one time I haven’t been there for you.” Benedick opened his mouth, but she interrupted him. “YOU CAN’T. Because I am always there, even when you couldn’t give less of a fuck.” She crossed her arms furiously, glaring at him._

_“Beatrice, what are you-”_

_“It doesn’t matter!” She cried angrily. “God, you are SO immature. You can never commit to anything, can you? Not one single fucking thing.”_

_“Well, what about you!” he countered, pointing accusingly at her. “Joking around with Pedro when we were SUPPOSED to be working? Don’t think I didn’t see you.”_

_“I was DISCUSSING TACTICS.”_

_“WITHOUT ME?”_

_“It didn’t have anything to do with you!” Beatrice said, exasperatedly. “It was about my side of things, sniper position and things like that.”_

_“Well clearly you should’ve taken a little more time ‘discussing tactics.’” Ben sneered. “Maybe then you could’ve MADE THE SHOT.”_

_Beatrice’s face went blank. She stared at him, something darkening in her eyes, but Benedick was on a roll._

_“You all act like I’m some loser who doesn’t know what he’s doing, like it’s always MY FAULT when something goes wrong,” he said, pacing back and forth. “Well you know what, Beatrice? I’m a spy too. I don’t need to take this shit, there are plenty of other places that would take me.”_

_“Well then why don’t you GO?” Beatrice shouted._

_“Maybe I WILL!” Benedick yelled back. “I don’t NEED YOU to do my job Bea, alright? I DON’T NEED YOU.”_

_He finally turned to look at her, and saw that her eyes were full of tears. His heart constricted in his chest._

_“Fine,” she said, her voice cracking. “We’re done, okay? Done.”_

_“Beatrice, wait-”_

_But she had already pushed past him, practically sprinting out the door. He thought he might’ve heard a sob before it slammed shut._

 

_He called John the next day._

_“Hello?”_

_“Hey there, Johnny boy,” Benedick said, cheerily._

_“Hobbes? How did you get this-“_

_“Swiped it off Pedro’s phone,” Benedick explained, casually. “Which reminds me, why exactly did he text you two months ago to ask if you were ‘going to be bringing a salad?’”_

_There was a long silence from the other end of the line._

_“We… our parents have a Christmas… I don’t have to_ tell you _, Mountanto,” John sputtered. “_ Why _are you calling me?”_

_“I’m in,” Ben said, shortly. “Sign me up. Lock me down. Make me write my name in blood, or whatever it is you guys do.”_

_“You mean, you want to join us?” John asked, and Benedick could almost hear his eyebrow raise. “You’re serious?”_

_“Yeah,” Ben said, his eyes darting to the case file sticking out of his trash. “Dead serious.”_


	5. Chapter 5

She didn’t emerge from the room until that evening, first aid kit in hand, kneeling in front of the couch to change his bandage.

“Listen, Bea,” Ben began, “about earlier -”

She held up a hand to stop him.

“Motion to strike our earlier conversation from the record?” She asked. They used to say that to each other all the time, when one or both of them took an argument too far. “We both said some things I’m sure we wish we didn’t say. Can we just… forget about it?”

“Motion carried,” He grinned. She smiled back, relieved. It had been so nice to be back with him again, to forget all of the ugliness between them. She had missed him, more than she’d ever admit.

“How’s the leg?” She asked.

“Well, you know, it’s been better. Like all those times I _didn’t_ have a gaping bullet wound, for example.”

“For the _millionth time,_ it’s a _surface wound_. I only grazed you!”

“Why don’t you leave it up to the victim to tell you how bad their bullet wound is?”

“You’re just lucky I was off my game, otherwise -”

She stopped short. She didn’t want to think about ‘otherwise’.

“You know what we need?” Ben asked, sensing the tension creeping back in, “A visit from my good friend, alcohol. Check the fridge, will you? I’d do it myself, but someone’s _mangled my leg._ ”

“You’re such a drama queen,” She sighed, rising to her feet and heading into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, gaze falling on a bottle of champagne. “Since when did you get so fancy? Is this Dom Perignon? Jesus, this stuffs like two hundred bucks a bottle, isn’t it?”

“John had it sent to my house when I agreed to join him,” Ben explained. Bea pulled a face, frowning at the bottle.

“So it’s probably poisoned, then.”

“Only one way to find out!” He called merrily. She grabbed the bottle, searching through his cabinets for some glasses.

“Do you seriously not have a single clean cup in this whole apartment?”

“What, are you too good to drink it from the bottle?”

She popped the cork over the sink, then brought it back to the couch, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Make room,” She said, nudging Ben’s foot with her knee.

“Nope, sorry,” He shook his head, “this couch is reserved for gunshot wound victims only, not the monsters who maimed them.”

“Oh my God, you are the _worst_ ,” She huffed. She lifted his leg as gently as possible, taking a seat on the couch. She propped a pillow up in her lap and rested his leg on top of it. “Comfy?”

“If I say no, will you move?”

“Nope,” She said gleefully, sticking her tongue out at him and grabbing the champagne, taking a swig before passing it to him.

“Where does Pedro think you are, anyway?” He asked, after taking a sip for himself.

“Tracking you, I guess?” She shrugged, then grimaced at the memory. “We haven’t spoken since before I shot you. We… had an argument.”

“You and Pedro?” Ben leaned back, surprised. “You guys never fight.”

“We do now, apparently,” She said. “He was mad at me for not doing my job. Like it’s so easy for me to just forget that you’re my -”

She froze.

“Your what?” He pressed. Bea grabbed the bottle back from him instead of answering. “ _Beatrice._ Forget that I’m your what?”

“My teammate,” She mumbled, staring at the bottle instead of at Ben, “my partner. Or were, anyway.”

 

_“I need a team of two on this one,” Pedro announced, “We’ve been assigned to kill a man named Cornwall. It’s not going to be easy. There’s going to be a lot of long hours that you’ll need to put in -”_

_“Bea and I will do it,” Ben said, before Pedro could go on. He turned to Bea. “We’ll do it, right?”_

_“Hell yeah,” she nodded, fist bumping him in solidarity, “Team Blessed is on it, Bossman.”_

 

“It’s not like you liked being my teammate, anyway,” Ben said sheepishly, turning away. Bea frowned.

“Is that a joke? I wouldn’t have been your teammate if I didn’t want to be,” She said, “don’t go throw a pity party.”

“It’s not a pity party,” He argued, “it’s the truth.You were constantly calling me a shit spy in one way or another - mocking my aim, or my technique - even my codename was just you taking a jab at me.”

“Is that really what you think?” She asked, hurt. “That I thought you were a shit spy?”

“What was I _supposed_ to think, Bea?”

“Ben, come on,” She said, resting her hand on top of his, “you’re an amazing spy. One of the best in the business. I loved being your partner. And you know that it’s true, because I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

Ben looked over at her, the beginnings of a smile starting to show.

“You really think I’m one of the best in the business?”

She gave him a wry grin.

“Why else would Pedro be so adamant about wanting you dead?”

“Good point,” He grinned, proud of himself. “He wouldn’t need to kill me if I wasn’t amazing at my job.”

“Is that why you left?” She asked, and his smile faded again. “Was it... because of me?”

“I just felt like -” He paused, searching for the words. Bea stared at him, imploring, waiting for him to answer. “It felt like none of you wanted me around. Like it wouldn’t matter if I left.”

She was so stunned, he may as well have slapped her. How could he think that? After everything they’d gone through? He’d been by her side since training - since day one.

 

_“Nice job today.”_

_Beatrice looked up from the water fountain, locking eyes with the lanky, dark haired guy who’d addressed her._

_“Thanks,” She grinned, “you too.”_

_“My names Benedick, by the way,” he introduced, and she couldn’t help but snicker. He rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yeah, I know, I know. Get all the giggles out now.”_

_“I’m sorry,” She laughed, “really. I’m Bea.”_

_“Hey, Bea,” He greeted. “So, I overheard Pedro saying something about breaking off into teams of two for training tomorrow. And since you were the second best in there today -”_

_Bea smirked, quirking her brow._

_“I’m sorry, this coming from the guy who almost took out a support beam with a grappling hook ten minutes ago?”_

_“I was testing the strength of the foundation!” He defended. Bea laughed again._

_“If you’re asking if I want to be partners,” She said, “I accept.”_

_“Great,” He said, bouncing on his heels. “See you tomorrow, Partner.”_

_He smiled right at her, and that’s when Bea knew she was a goner._

 

“Ben,” Bea said quietly, as serious as she’d ever been, “It’s not a matter of _wanting_ you as my teammate. I _need_ you.” He looked away, eyes downcast.

“I really _want_ to believe you, Bea,” he said. “But think about it. Can you name even one time that you were the one who needed me, instead of the other way around?”

Bea’s mind reeled. Was that really how he felt? That whole time they worked together - _three years_ of their lives - and the whole time, he’d never said anything? Her mind was racing with all the times they’d worked together, how she’d always picked Ben over everyone, knowing that as long as they were a team, they were unstoppable. Untouchable, even.

“See?” He said, jolting her out of her thoughts, “you can’t even name one time.”

He reached for the champagne, and she caught him by the wrist, twisting his arm away, a wicked grin on her face.

“Hand-to-hand combat,” She said, “remember?”

 

_She was going at the punching bag with everything she had, as though her life depended on it. Despite the fact that training had ended ten minutes ago, she was acutely aware of being watched – Ben had been lingering by the door, quietly observing her._

_“If you’re going to hover,” She snapped, “you might as well make yourself useful and spot me.”_

_“What did the poor punching bag ever do to you, huh?” He teased, coming over to join her._

_“I’m really not in the mood for witty banter right now, Ben.”_

_“Wow,” he said, playful grin immediately giving way to concern, “must be serious, then. What’s going on?”_

_She gave one last almighty punch, then let herself lean back against the wall and slide to the floor, exhausted._

_“This is the second day we’ve worked on hand-to-hand combat,” She explained, “and no matter how many times Pedro works with me, no matter what critiques he gives, I just… can’t do it. He keeps disarming me. It’s like he’s always a step ahead, and it just – it_ sucks _. It’s embarrassing.”_

_“Why is it embarrassing? We’re all new to this, not just you.”_

_“Easy for you to say,” She huffed. “You’re the best in the group when it comes to this.”_

_She expected a boastful smirk, or a gloating agreement, but Ben just regarded her in silence for a moment before holding out his hand._

_“Come on.”_

_“What?” She asked, taking it hesitantly. He helped her to her feet._

_“Cancel any plans you’ve got for the rest of the day,” He said, “we’re not leaving this gym until you’re an expert at hand-to-hand combat.”_

_“Better clear your schedule for tomorrow, too,” She replied grimly, “this is going to take a while.”_

_“If that’s what it takes, so be it,” He said, undeterred. “And remember, when all else fails, you can always just hit them over the head with something. Don’t expect Pedro to teach us that, though. That’s a tip directly from me to you, just between teammates.”_

 

“I forgot about that,” Ben admitted.

“Well, I didn’t.” She released his wrist, and he rubbed it absently. “And that was just the first of many times, so don’t ever let me hear you say that I don’t need you again.”

Suddenly, Bea’s communicator started ringing. She jumped in surprise - she’d completely forgotten she was wearing the damn thing.

“It’s Pedro,” She made a face, then pressed a button, her watch going silent. “He can wonder where I am for a while longer.”

“Uh, Beatrice,” Ben frowned, “don’t those things have trackers in them?”

“Shit,” Her face went white, “shit, what do I do?”

“What do you mean what do you do? Handle it!” He cried, and she jumped to her feet, knocking Ben’s legs aside in the process. He winced, mouth dropping open in agony. “ _Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow,_ watch it!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” She cried, dashing into the kitchen, grabbing a rolling pin. “Ursula’s going to kill me for this…”

She slammed the rolling pin down onto the watch with all her might, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.

“Have you lost your mind?” Ben asked, staggering into the room, leaning against the door frame for support, “you could’ve just turned it off!” Bea stared at him, still holding the rolling pin.

“...I panicked.”

He started laughing, doubling over.

“I’ve really missed you,” He admitted, when his laughter died down. Her chest tightened.

“I missed you too,” She said. “The truth is, Ben… I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Me either,” Ben said, “I’m completely over my head here, I – I never should have left to work with John. It was the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made. I wish I could take it back –”

“So leave,” Bea said, heart racing. Suddenly it all seemed so simple. “You quit once,just quit again. Pedro will take you back, I’ll make him. And –”

“Bea,” he interrupted, “I can’t.”

She felt like someone had just ripped the rug out from beneath her. Ten seconds ago she felt like she was flying – now, suddenly, it all came crashing down around her.

“Can’t?” She repeated, hoping her voice didn’t sound as small and shattered as she felt.

“It’s not that simple,” He explained. “John is… John is _scary_. He’s not like us, okay? He’s ruthless. He’ll stop at nothing to take all of MESSINA down. If I leave, he’ll kill me.”

“If you stay,” she said softly, “ _I_ have to kill you.”

“So you _are_ still planning on doing that, then,” He said, his voice pained.

“It doesn’t matter. If I don’t do it, Pedro will. Or Meg. Or someone else. If you come back, we can protect you.”

“I can’t put you in that position, Bea.” He tried to reach for her hand, but she took a step back, out of his grasp. “You don’t understand. He won’t stop at just me. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got a whole _army_ protecting me, Beatrice, if I leave John’s organization now, knowing what I know… None of us will ever be safe again.”

“So what, you’re just staying with him forever?” She snapped, bitter tears stinging at her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Ben, we’re fucking _spies_. If safety was my priority, I wouldn’t have chosen this life, okay? Do you think I can’t handle myself? I’m not scared of John. Nothing he says or does is going to keep me from doing what’s right. I thought that’s how you would feel, too, but apparently – I guess you’re not who I thought you were. Because the Ben I knew would never have done this. The Ben I knew never would’ve –”

“What?” Anger flashed in his eyes. “What, Bea? You think you know me better than I know myself, so go ahead, tell me. Just say it.”

“ _Never would have left me!_ ” She roared. “The Ben I knew never would have left me like that! You think I never needed you? _I needed you then_. I needed you more than ever. After everything that happened with Hero and Claudio, with her retiring – I was a mess, I couldn’t deal with it, and I needed you, and you just –”

She was shaking. He was staring at her, and his eyes were big and wide and wounded, and she knew if she kept looking at him, it would only make everything worse.

“Beatrice…”

“I need some air,” she murmured, grabbing her flanneloff the back of the couch on her way out, “I just… I need some air.”

She was grateful that he couldn’t follow her. If it weren’t for his leg, she knew he’d try. She couldn’t face him right now – she couldn’t believe she’d said those things. It would be easy to blame it on the champagne, but it was more than that – it was being with him again, talking like it was old times again. For a moment, it felt like everything was okay. She was so sure he would come back, once he saw how much he meant to them. How much he meant to _her_. Her face felt hot, and her mind was working overtime, a thousand thoughts flying around at once. It felt like she was losing him all over again. It hurt so much more this time, knowing he didn’t want to be rescued.

 

_It was their first mission, and she couldn’t find Ben anywhere. She’d woken up in an abandoned warehouse, completely alone. She shot up like a rocket, scrambling to turn on her communicator, checking to make sure her headset was still in place._

_“Ben!” She shouted, forgetting herself, “Mountanto, do you copy? What is your location?”_

_Static was the only response._

Okay, Bea, _she told herself,_ you’re okay. Just think about what you learned in training. You’re prepared for this. In the event you get unexpectedly separated from your partner, what do you do?

_She couldn’t remember what they talked about during that training session. All she remembered was Ben whispering “pfft, like we’d ever let that happen” and rolling his eyes. Pedro had gotten so sick of them talking during training that he banished them to opposite ends of the room until they stopped giggling._

_She shook away the memory, trying to focus._ Think, Beatrice. Think. _She circled the room, trying to regain her bearings._ What’s the last thing you remember?

_Ben was supposed to be the distraction. He was going to set off an explosive in the basement, and when everyone went to check on it, Bea was going to slip into the office and steal the files the client had asked for. It was supposed to be quick, an in-and-out mission, but something had gone wrong._

_She’d been waiting, looming in the shadows of one of the dark hallways, when the explosives went off. Right on cue, there were shouts coming from the main office, and the sounds of people thundering through the hall, searching for the source of the disruption._

_She slipped into the office and gathered as many of the files as she could. She only had about two minutes before –_

_“Get on the ground,” someone snarled. Bea dropped the files in alarm, turning around. A dark haired woman was leveling a pistol directly at Bea’s head. “Get on the goddamn ground, right now, before I blow your pretty little head clean off.”_

_She dropped to the floor, discretely pressing the panic button on her communicator as she did. She wasn’t worried. Ben would hear the alert and come for her right away. By the time she counted to sixty, he’d be bursting into the room._

_She only managed to count to five before the woman struck her over the head with something, and her world went dark._

_Now she was in the destroyed remnants of the warehouse, alone and afraid. Ben hadn’t come for her – that much was obvious. Which could only mean one thing: they’d gotten him before they’d gotten her._

_“Lady Disdain to base, do you copy?”_

_“Lady Disdain.” Balthazar. She breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s going on? Where’s Mountanto? We’re not getting a signal here.”_

_“I don’t know,” She said, “they knew we were coming. It was a set up. Balth, listen. I need you to give me his last known coordinates.” She could hear quiet murmuring on the other end, probably going over their tracking system with Ursula._

_“It looks like he was last on our radar fifteen minutes ago,” He said, “And it looks like he was only about fifty meters above you, just about thirty to the left. But I doubt he’s still –”_

_“If you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, I need you to send backup,” Bea ordered, “okay? Thirty minutes, Balth.”_

_“You got it. Be careful.”_

_She took off for the stairs, gun at the ready. When she burst into the hallway, she heard someone running in her direction. She aimed for the archway, finger on the trigger, ready to fight._

_“Watch where you point that thing, Lady D,” Ben grinned, turning the corner, “Would you really shoot your own teammate?”_

_She lowered the gun, relief washing over her. She ran to him and he caught her in a hug, both of them holding each other as tight as they could, as if the other might disappear from their grasp._

_“What the hell happened?” She shoved him away, collecting herself._

_“I was headed for the rendezvous point when they intercepted me,” He said, “Just fought my way out of a room guarded by fifteen people.” Bea narrowed her eyes._

_“You did not.”_

_“Okay, two people,” he amended. “Anyway, they’re unconscious and tied up now, so they’re not our problem anymore.  Everyone else is gone - the place is completely cleared out. What happened to you?”_

_“Got caught,” she shrugged, “got knocked out. I woke up and I… I thought I lost you. Like… for good.”_

_“Nice try, Beatrice,” he said, “But I’ll always find my way back to you.”_

 

It was past midnight when she slipped back into Ben’s apartment, and he was fast asleep on the couch. She ghosted her fingers across his bandage, then grabbed a blanket, draping it over him. She sat on the arm of the couch, taking him in.

“Ben,” she whispered. “I know you’re asleep right now, but… that’s okay. It makes it easier to say this, actually.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry we fought. Today, and the day you decided to leave. And every other time before that. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

He shifted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.

“It wasn’t your fault we couldn’t take that guy down,” she went on, “it was mine. I was the one who missed. And I blamed it on you because – because I couldn’t _deal_ with it being my fault. Because then I would have to admit that I was still shaken up by what happened with Hero. I’d have to admit that I’m not as strong as I pretend I am, and I’d have to admit how scared I was, because Claudio was going to - she could’ve _died_ , Ben. I could have lost her, and that it was all I could think about. And I may not be afraid of John, but I _am_ afraid of losing the people I care about. Especially… especially you.”

She paused, half expecting Ben to start talking, to say he’d been fake-sleeping, to tease her or comfort her or do anything. But he slept on, dreaming peacefully.

“But I guess none of that matters now,” she mumbled, “because here you are, right in front of me, and I’m still losing you.”

She turned out the lights and went to bed, wrapping herself up in Ben’s sheets, and let herself cry until there was nothing left.


	6. Chapter 6

Ben had heard everything.

He’d been about to drift off into an uneasy sleep when he heard the door creak open, and suddenly Beatrice was there beside him.

But what was he supposed to say? He knew Beatrice, knew how hard it was for her to show weakness or admit fault, so he just let her talk.

Her last words sat in his mind like a brick.

_“Here you are, right in front of me, and I’m still losing you.”_

He didn’t want to lose her, not ever. She was his teammate, his best friend, his…

It was really only a matter of time before the bubbling feeling he got in his chest when he was around her threatened to overwhelm him.

If he could just talk to her things might’ve been better, but Beatrice wasn’t speaking to him anymore. He tried everything to get her attention, but her lips was sealed. The last time she’d said anything to him was the morning after their argument.

 _“I’ll help you until your leg is better, then I’m gone,”_ she said, sounding tired but determined.

_“Beatrice…”_

_“No.”_ She held up a hand. _“We don’t work together anymore, Ben. I have nothing to say to you.”_

And apparently she didn’t, because that was the last time Benedick had heard her say anything beyond the occasional “here,” or “no.”

 _“Hey Bea,”_ he tried one day. _“Why are we good cooks? Because we know a lot about SPICES. SPY-ces.”_

She didn’t even roll her eyes.

 _“Beatrice, please,”_ he said another day. _“Talk to me.”_

She just turned away.

And somehow, _somehow,_ she kept it up for two weeks.

His leg had healed completely, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. If his injury was the last thing keeping her with him, he couldn’t give that up. Not yet.

It was time to do something very stupid.  

“Bea, listen to me,” he said one morning, as she dropped a plate of toast unceremoniously on the table in front of him. “You are my best friend.”

“We can’t _be_ friends anymore, Benedick,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Well I don’t _just_ want to be your friend, Bea,” he said, the words practically exploding out of him.

Beatrice’s entire expression dropped, fell into a look Benedick wasn’t sure he could quite decipher. He braced himself for anything, knowing there was a high probability she might punch him.

“What… what are you talking about?” She mumbled.

“I think you know what I’m talking about, Beatrice,” he responded, softly.

“Well… that…” she stammered. “That is really _inconvenient,_ Ben.”

“I know, but-”

“Ridiculous, actually,” Beatrice interrupted, getting angry, “considering you’ve said you’re going to continue working for John. Considering how that _didn’t work_ for Hero and Claudio.Considering how that never works out for spies, _ever._ Why would you risk everything else for… for me?”

 

_He was going to do it._

_Two years of side glances and inside jokes and being the best damn team MESSINA had ever seen, and Benedick honestly couldn’t take it anymore. If he didn’t say something to her soon, he thought he might explode._

_He was about to round the corner to Bea’s desk when he heard Hero’s voice._

_“But what about Ben? You two are teammates, that’s essentially the same thing.”_

_“No, no, it’s completely different,” he heard Beatrice argue. “Leo and Julie dated for a_ year _.”_

_“And you’ve known Ben for twice that time!”_

_“But it’s not the same! It’s… it’s different,” she said, and Ben felt something inside his chest deflate._ _“When you’re in a relationship with someone, your enemies will always use it against you. You make yourself vulnerable, and you’ll get hurt just like Leo and Julie did. I wouldn’t want  someone’s life in my hands like that, it’s… it’s not worth it.”_

_Benedick walked away quietly, hoping no one would hear him. The bubbling energy he’d had a few minutes ago was gone._

_If that was how Beatrice truly felt about relationships, he wasn’t about to risk their partnership. It wasn’t..._

 

“Because you’re worth it,” Benedick said, quietly. “Or at least, you are to me.”

Beatrice’s eyes got very wide, and she suddenly looked more vulnerable than Ben had seen her in a long time.

Then, before he knew what was happening, she ran forward and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and burying his face in her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she breathed. “ _Three years,_ Ben…”

“I just… I never thought that you would like me the way I like you.”

Beatrice pulled back, staring straight into his eyes, her hand resting on his cheek.

He kept expecting her to back away.

But she didn’t, she just moved closer, and he could feel her breath on his lips and she was _right there._

He started to close his eyes.

_BANG._

The spell broke as Benedick’s front door slammed open.

“MOUNTANTO YOU LITTLE SHIT, I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE.”

_Robbie._

“Fuck,” Beatrice whispered, her eyes meeting Ben’s.

“Bea, you’ve got to ru-“ Benedick began, but it was too late.

Robbie rounded the corner and saw them there together, Beatrice’s hand on his cheek and Ben’s arms around her waist.

“You _TRAITOR,”_ Robbie cried, drawing his knife out of its sheath. “I knew it, I fucking knew -”

“Stay away from him,” Beatrice said, standing up and pulling out her gun. “Stay the _hell_ away.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Mountanto,” Robbie shook his head. “She’s still not DEAD? I _knew_ you weren’t the man for the job.”

Beatrice’s composure faltered, her eyes widening.

 _No no no no no no, no,_ Ben thought. _Beatrice…_

“Dead?” she asked, weakly, turning her head slightly to look at him. “Ben, what…”

And suddenly it was like everything had gone into slow motion. Benedick saw Robbie pounce, his knife out, straight for Beatrice.

_NO._

Ben pushed himself up off the couch, jumping in front of Robbie’s oncoming knife. He saw him move left, and his instincts took over. He grabbed Robbie’s wrist, using the forward momentum to his own advantage and swinging him around, crashing into the wall. Robbie crumpled, gasping for breath, but Benedick didn’t care about him anymore.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning his gaze to Beatrice, but he froze at the sight of her face.

“Your leg…” she breathed, “You said… said you couldn’t walk on it.”

“Beatrice, wait-”

“You,” she said, taking a step back. “You were supposed to kill _me_?”

“John assigned me to do it, but I wasn’t going to!” he said, panicked. “Please, you have to trust me.”

“I don’t _have_ to do ANYTHING,” she shouted, her face contorted with anger and hurt. “I can’t _believe_ I…”

“Beatrice, _please._ ”

“How _could_ you, Benedick?” She cried. “You didn’t, you never ONCE…”

“I tried!” Benedick insisted. “I didn’t know how to say it!”

“FUCK you.”

Her words hit him like a freight train. Ben stood in shocked silence as Beatrice turned away, burying her face in her hands. He wanted to say something, do _anything_ to make her believe him, when suddenly he felt a knife’s point at his back.

But when the voice attached to the knife spoke, it wasn’t Robbie.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you, Signor,” Meg said, her eyes dark. “In fact, I’d be still as a god damned statue.”

Beatrice whipped around at the sound of Meg’s voice, looking relieved.

“Meg…”

“We’re getting you out of here, babes,” Meg said, her knife’s tip still digging in between Benedick’s shoulder blades. “Now.”

“How did you find-”

“It’s not important!” Meg insisted. “Just go outside and get in the car.”

“Beatrice,” Benedick tried, knife be damned. “You have to listen-”

“Shut up,” Meg said, pushing the knife further against his back. “Don’t think I won’t stab you, Hobbes. I will stab you _so fast_.”

Beatrice wouldn’t meet his gaze, her eyes darting from Meg, to Robbie, to the open front door. _Please,_ he thought. _Just look at me Bea, you’ll know I’m telling the truth. Like I would ever hurt you…_

“I’ll meet you outside,” she mumbled, brushing past them. At the last second her eyes darted up, staring into his.

And then she was gone.

And Benedick’s heart felt like lead.

“Ugh… what’s happening?” Robbie muttered from the floor, holding his head. Meg looked over at him, sharply.

“Robbie Borachio,” she mused. “You cocky bastard.”

“Oh, _fantastic,_ ” Robbie muttered. “The Queen. Just what I need, _more_ self centered bitches in my life.”

“Here, have another one,” Meg said coolly, grabbing Benedick by the arm and pushing him down on the floor next to Robbie. “And say hi to _The Master,_ for me, when you see him.”

“Meg!” Benedick called, in a last ditch effort. “Meg, you know me. Would I ever do _anything_ to hurt Beatrice?”

She paused on her way out the door,  looking back at him sadly.

“I think you already have, Ben.”

Then she shut the door behind her, leaving the two men in the dark.

“Mountanto,” Robbie grumbled. “You are in deep shit.”

 

***

 

“It was a long con!” Benedick lied through his teeth. “If Robbie hadn’t come barging in, I could’ve done my job!”

“Bullshit,” Robbie growled. “I saw the two of you making lovey eyes at each other.”

“What part of _long con_ are you not understanding?”

“ _Enough_ ,” John said, rubbing his temples.

“Donaldson,” Robbie said, “I could’ve killed her, and HE-”

“Shut. Up,” John said, coldly. Robbie froze, looking like he’s been slapped in the face. It took every bit of restraint Benedick had not to laugh.

“Mountanto,” John continued, turning his gaze on Ben. “You’ve been completely off the radar for two weeks. Unless I get a thorough explanation here and now, you’re in more trouble than you know.”

Benedick took a deep breath. _You can do this,_ he thought. _It’s just talking. You’re GREAT at talking.”_

“I trailed her for about half a week,” he explained. “Apparently she noticed me though, so she shot at me. Look-”

He pulled up his pant leg, displaying the bandage.

“But you’re walking on it!” Robbie burst out. “Obviously you’re _lying._ ”

“She grazed my leg a week and a half ago, sunshine,” Benedick said. “I’ve been able to walk on it for days.”

“But-”

“Borachio,” John warned. “Not now.”

Robbie looked like every part of him wanted to protest, but John’s eyes were icy. With what looked like a lot of effort, Robbie closed his mouth.

“If what you’re saying is true, you were with her, _alone,_ for a week and a half,” John continued. “And yet, somehow, she’s not dead.”

“Well, I needed _somebody_ to fix my leg, didn’t I?” He said,stalling for time more than anything else. _Think, Ben. What would John believe?_

“AND,” he added quickly, “I thought you could use some more information.” John’s head shot up.

“What?” he said, looking so surprised that Benedick started to feel a little offended.

“Information? You know, insider intel? The 411? The hot gossip?”

“Donaldson, come on!” Robbie said, apparently too overwhelmed to keep his mouth shut. “This guy doesn’t have anything to tell us, or he would’ve found a way to-”

“Borachio I _swear to god_ ,” John said, slamming his fist on the table. “Need I remind you that I _did not ask_ you to go looking for our missing agent? One more interruption and I will throw you out of this office.”

“But he doesn’t have _anything!_ ”

“Well I certainly don’t _now!”_ Benedick said, exasperatedly. “Maybe if you hadn’t come storming into my house I could’ve learned something useful!”

“YOU HAD A WEEK AND A HALF!”

“Exactly! You think Lady Disdain herself trusts people easily?”

“What exactly did you tell her to gain her trust, then?” John asked.

 _Because you’re worth it._ Benedick’s own words sprang into his mind before he could stop them, and he felt a pang in his heart as he tried to push the thought away.

“The truth,” he said, simply. “That you had sent me to kill her. But I told her that I didn’t _want_ to do it, that I was coming to warn her. She felt so bad about shooting me, she agreed to help me recover.”

“And so what, you were planning to _fuck_ the answers out of her?” Robbie sneered, and it took everything Benedick had not to turn around and rip his heart out.

“That’s IT, Borachio,” John shouted, and it was a good thing he drew Robbie’s gaze because Benedick was sure his own composure was slipping. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so furious, he could practically hear his blood pumping. To hear him talk about Beatrice like she was so unimportant, like she wasn’t _everything._

“Mountanto, get out of here,” John said, looking down at Robbie with distaste. “I think Mr. Borachio and I need to have a little discussion about following orders.”

Benedick was so distracted, it took him a few seconds to realize what John had said.

“You’re… you’re just going to let me go?”

“WHAT?” Robbie bellowed. “You’re NOT serious!”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Mountanto,” John said, completely ignoring Robbie. “I’ll expect an incredibly detailed report, but until then _please_ do what I tell you and get. Out.”

Benedick was walking back to the door before John had finished his last syllable. He could still hear the shouting as he started down the hall.

“I was THIS CLOSE to getting her!”

“YOU’RE _THIS_ CLOSE TO GETTING FIRED.”

It almost made Benedick smile.

Almost.

 

***

 

When Ben got to his house, the door slammed shut behind him with a bang that echoed throughout all the empty rooms. He set his bag down, took off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch with his eyes closed. He was back home.

 But it didn’t feel like it.

 He opened his eyes, and immediately noticed the old bloodstains on the cushions. He rolled over, his gaze falling on the plate of toast from that morning. A green flannel sat abandoned on the kitchen table.

  _She’s gone,_ he thought to himself. _She’s here, but she’s gone._

Benedick shivered. It was _cold,_ he realized suddenly.

 He pushed himself up off the couch, walking over to the thermostat in the corner. How had it gotten turned down so low?

 

_“Why is is always so cold in this office?” Benedick complained._

_"I like it,” Beatrice said, perched on his desk and reading a memo. “Keeps me focused.”_

_“Plus, it matches your stone cold heart,” Ben joked, tossing a crumpled piece of paper at her._

_“What, you’d rather have it burning hot? Like the flames of hell you came from?”_

 

Maybe he’d just get a jacket instead.

Ben walked into the bedroom, grabbing one of his old sweaters from the closet and pulling it on. He was about to head back out to the living room when he changed his mind, pushing aside his clothes to reach the secret door down to the Bencave.

Ever since he’d become a spy, it had been his dream to have a secret hideout. He’d chosen his apartment specifically because it was in a prime location for building underground.

And finally, after months and months of pestering, Pedro had conceded to help him build it.

At least Beatrice had never been down there.

Benedick took the spiral stairs two at a time, stumbling a little on the last one when he landed wrong on his injured leg. _Stupid._

Normally the Bencave felt homey, _cool,_ but today it just felt empty. Ben sighed, falling into the swivel chair in front of his desk and spinning it in lazy circles.

He needed to come up with a plan. John was expecting a _full report_ tomorrow, something far more intricate than Benedick could bullshit without preparation.

There was probably a notebook around, somewhere. Ben opened his desk drawer, rummaging through all the crap in vain. He wasn’t even sure what half of the stuff _was,_ much less why it was in his desk. He slammed it shut angrily, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his sweater.

His fingers brushed something cold.

Benedick drew his hands back out quickly, alarmed. _What?_ He hardly ever wore the sweater anymore, what could possibly be in the pocket? After a moment he reached into it again, feeling the metallic object against his fingertips. He took it out slowly, and when he realized what it was, his heart stopped.

 

_He’d lost her yesterday._

_He couldn’t stop thinking about it, replaying it over and over in his head – he’d lost her, and for a while there, he was afraid it had been for good. He didn’t know what he would do if that had happened – just the thought of it made him feel queasy. He made himself focus on the good parts, instead: they found each other. They were safe now._

_Bea tapped his desk, jolting him out of his thoughts. She was holding something in her closed fist, a mischievous grin on her face._

_“What’s that?” He asked, immediately reaching out for it, but she pulled her hand away before he could grab her._

_“It’s a surprise,” She said, “now shut your eyes and hold out your hand.”_

_“Am I going to regret this?” He asked warily._

_“I resent that,” she said, making a big show of being offended, “I’m your teammate, you basically have to trust me. You don’t have a choice.”_

_“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, closing his eyes and holding his hand out towards her. He felt something cool and metallic_ _drop into his palm, and he ran his thumb around the edge of it absently before opening his eyes. He looked up at her, a bemused smile on his face. “A compass? I appreciate the old school appeal, but you know we’ve got GPS built into the communicators, right?”_

_“It’s symbolic, dummy,” She laughed, shoving him playfully. “So you can always find your way back to me.”_

 

Benedick grasped the compass tightly in his hand, his eyes suddenly feeling very hot. He put his head down on his desk, pressing the metallic object to his cheek.

She had been so close to him that morning, he thought he’d finally found his way back to her. If he’d just been a little faster, a little _braver…_

But it was no good. If he _had_ kissed her, she would’ve assumed that was part of his play. A deeper betrayal than the one she already thought he’d committed. Benedick could imagine her in the gym at MESSINA headquarters - her hair tied back, brow furrowed in concentration - beating at the punching bag and wishing it was him.

 _I love you,_ he thought, miserably. _Beatrice, I love you._


	7. Chapter 7

_I hate you_ , she thought, miserably. _Benedick Hobbes, I am never going to forgive you for this._

She was waiting outside of Pedro’s office, where he was currently speaking with Meg. Coming back to MESSINA was the absolute last thing Beatrice had wanted to do, but Pedro had demanded they return immediately for a debriefing. And in Bea’s case, probably a lot of lecturing.

“Come on in, Bea,” Pedro said, opening the door. Meg walked out, squeezing Bea’s shoulder as she passed, and shooting her a supportive smile. Wordlessly, Bea rose, following Pedro into the office. He shut the door behind her, coming around to his desk. “Meg told me what happened.”

“Right,” Bea sighed, “look, Pedro, I’m not in the mood right now, so let’s just get this over with. I deliberately defied you. I went against orders. I broke about fifty different rules. I did everything wrong. So go ahead – suspend me, fire me, whatever you’re going to do. I don’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not suspending you. Or firing you.”

Bea’s head shot up.

“You’re not?” She asked. He shook his head. “But I didn’t do my job. Not only that, but I put everyone in danger, I -”

He raised his brow.

“Do you want me to suspend you?”

“ _No,_ but –”

“Okay then,” He said, “then we’re going to consider this matter dealt with.”

“If I’m not in trouble,” She asked hesitantly, “why did you call me in here?”

“I owe you an apology.” Bea’s eyes widened in surprise. Pedro raked his hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. “I never should have given you this assignment. We all care about Ben, and it hurt all of us to lose him to John, but I know that you were taking it the hardest. There’s a lot of history between you two, and it wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position.”

“Wow,” Bea blinked at him, “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“You kind of gave us all a scare, Bea,” He said gently. “You and I had that dumb fight, and then you stormed out and that was the last we saw of you for two weeks. You were completely off the radar, literally. We couldn’t track your position. With everything that’s happened this past month, we were all afraid that –”

“I’m sorry,” Bea cut him off, “you’re right. That was a dick move.”

“The only reason we didn’t come for you sooner is because Hero seemed convinced you were safe,” Pedro explained. “We called her, and she said the two of you had been texting. She didn’t know any specifics, but obviously if you were able to use your phone, you weren’t in danger.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” She promised wearily. “I let my emotions get in the way of my job. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re not the first.” He gave her a sad sort of smile. “And for what it’s worth, Bea… I’m really sorry about what happened with Ben. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks, Pedro,” She mumbled. She could feel a fresh batch of tears brimming, and she brushed them away. She was so sick of crying – it felt like she’d cried more the last month than she had in her whole life leading up to it. “You’re a good sort.”

Meg was waiting for her outside of Pedro’s office.

“Let’s talk, babes,” She suggested, slipping an arm around her shoulder. She took her into the break room, and they both sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, their feet propped up and knees brushing together.

“I hate him,” Bea said, without an ounce of hesitation.

“Bea,” Meg said, eyeing her skeptically, “come on…”

“No, I do,” She insisted, “He used me, Meg. He turned his back on three years of our lives, and for what? John? I thought that maybe he actually cared, that after _years_ of dancing around it, we were finally going to…”

Meg quirked her brow, waiting. Bea frowned, looking away.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter what I thought,” She said, “I was wrong.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“What else am I supposed to believe?”

“You were supposed to kill him, too,” Meg reminded her, “You had the exact same mission. Hell, _you_ even got as far as shooting him. Were you actually planning on killing him?”

“No!”

“Then what makes you think that _he_ was actually planning on killing _you_?”

“The fact that _I_ told him the truth!” She cried, “I told him what Pedro had sent me there to do. Would it have been so hard for him to say ‘oh hey, me too’?”

“I will admit that not telling you upfront was an asshole move,” Meg allowed, “but do you think – _just maybe_ – he was trying to protect you? That the less you knew about John’s fucked up shit, the better?”

“Why would he lie about his leg, then?” Bea asked, “What’s his great excuse for that one, huh? _That_ certainly wasn’t protecting me from anything.”

“What were you planning on doing when it got better?”

“Leaving,” Bea said automatically. She stopped, as if only just hearing herself. It was like a light bulb turning on, illuminating a dark room. “If I had known he was okay... I would have left.”

“Think about it, Bea,” Meg said, reaching for her hand. “I’m not saying what he did was right. But if it was reversed, if it was Pedro who had burst in and seen the two of you like that, you would’ve done the same thing.”

Meg kissed her forehead before walking out, leaving Beatrice alone with her thoughts. She didn’t know what to think anymore – if what Meg said was true, then Ben only did what he did because he…

Because he really did love her.

Because he was telling the truth when he said he wanted more than just friendship.

It meant that all those years she’d spent pining for him, he’d been pining for her, too. It meant every time she pushed aside those feelings because she didn’t want to risk losing him… he’d felt the same.

God, she had wasted so much time.

_“When you’re in a relationship with someone, your enemies will always use it against you,” She’d told Hero once, “You make yourself vulnerable, and you’ll get hurt just like Leo and Julie did. I wouldn’t want someone’s life in my hands like that, it’s… it’s not worth it.”_

_“But Beatrice,” Hero had said sadly, “Isn’t your happiness worth it? Don’t you think… don’t you think you and Ben deserve to be happy?”_

_“I can’t put him at risk like that, Hero,” She’d said, “He means too much. I would rather deny myself that happiness for the rest of my life and know he’s safe than have him for a moment and lose him.”_

What good had that done her?

She lied about her feelings because she didn’t want to lose him. Because he was too important to her. Because he meant too much. She’d locked that part of her away, pushed it all aside…

And in the end, it didn’t matter. It didn’t work.

She’d lost him anyway.

Beatrice was done wasting time.

She didn’t stop for anything on her way to Ben. She was acting on autopilot, pure adrenaline coursing through her veins. With every step she took, her face burned hotter. All she could think of was him - stupid, amazing, awful, _wonderful_ Ben. It figured that the great love of her life would be the person who had the most to gain from killing her.

She kicked the door to his apartment open, barely pausing to survey the empty room before storming into his bedroom.

 

 _“Guess what?” Ben asked, sauntering over to Bea’s desk, tapping it quickly before pushing aside a stack of folders and taking a seat, “I’m officially a_ true _spy now. I have my very own secret hideout.”_

_“You do not,” She rolled her eyes, “That’s so cliche!”_

_“I call it: The Bencave,” He beamed, “And it’s hidden somewhere so discreet, even you wouldn’t ever be able to find the entrance.”_

_Bea leaned back in her chair, giving him an appraising look._

_“It’s in your closet, isn’t it?”_

_He immediately turned bright red._

_“Absolutely not,” He huffed, “that’s - that’s so obvious. I would never. It’s a lot more discreet than that.” Bea smirked, triumphant._

_“Sure it is, super spy.”_

 

Her gaze immediately fell on the closet door, slightly ajar. She threw it open and shoved aside the clothes he’d hung up, revealing a second door with a keypad just above the locked knob. She hacked it on the first try, and it swung open, revealing a staircase that spiraled downwards.

The bottom of the staircase opened into a small, well-lit room with a wall of gadgets and weaponry, an untidy desk where a large computer sat, and a couch, where Ben was bent over a notebook, completely unaware of her presence.

“Dickface,” She snapped, and he turned sharply, jumping up.

“Beatrice!” He cried, “How did you get in here?”

“Your password is your _birthday_ ,” She made a face. “What kind of amateur move is that?”

“Well, congratulations on cracking the code and discovering The Bencave,” He said, doing his best to regain the upper hand, “of course, now that you’ve seen it, I’ll have to -”

“Shut up.”

She walked towards him, and with every step she took forward, he took one back - until she had him pinned flat against the wall, nearly nose to nose, her eyes locked with his, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

“Are you going to kill me or kiss me?” He asked, bracing himself, “Because I genuinely can’t tell.”

Her response was to throw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him and kissing him with everything she had. His reaction was immediate, wrapping his arms around her waist as her fingers tangled in his hair.

“Bedroom?” He asked breathlessly, when they pulled away. Bea nodded, tugging him down for another kiss. He dragged them towards the staircase and as they fumbled their way up them, Ben’s injured leg knocked against one of the steps, making him wince.

“Shit, are you okay?” Bea asked, pulling away and immediately crouching to examine the damage, “Do you want to stop? I can get -”

“Beatrice,” Ben pulled her back up to him, a strained look on his face, “Stopping is the absolute last thing I want to do right now.” Bea’s smile filled her whole face.

“Good answer,” she murmured, kissing him again. They tumbled out of Ben’s closet, knocking down half its contents on the way.

“Are _you_ okay?” He laughed, pulling a fallen jacket off of Bea’s head. “For two highly trained spies, you think we’d have a little more coordination.”

“Come here,” She ordered, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and pulling him closer.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He beamed, and he met her lips halfway.


	8. Chapter 8

Benedick stirred as sunlight pressed against his eyelids. He scrunched his eyes tight shut, trying desperately to hold on to his dream. It had been _so_ good, he could’ve lived there forever. It was almost… it was almost like it had been real.

As he began to wake up, his eyes still closed, Benedick’s brain kicked into gear. Images flashed in his mind’s eye of a kiss, of _Beatrice_ , and then…

Either he had very recently started remembering his dreams in _vivid_ detail, or it hadn’t been a dream at all.

 _Please,_ he thought, desperately. _Please let her be there._ He didn’t know what he would do if he looked around and found himself alone. Again.

Benedick took a deep breath, then slowly rolled over and opened his eyes.

If it had been possible for his heart to stop beating altogether, it would have done so right then and there.

Beatrice was lying next to him, her hair tousled and practically glowing in the morning sun. Benedick stared at her, disbelief and jubilation and extreme panic flooding his brain all at once. _She’s really here? God, she’s so brilliant and gorgeous. If anyone finds us…_

Beatrice shifted slightly, and Ben could see her eyelids fluttering. Before he could think of anything to say, her eyes shot open to stare directly into his.

For half a second, she looked confused. Then her expression changed, her mouth curling into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“Hi,” she mumbled, yawning. “So I may have changed my mind about killing you.”

Benedick kissed her in response, a rush of warmth and electricity filling him as he pulled her close. She responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back just as passionately.

“I thought maybe you were a dream,” Ben mumbled sleepily as he pulled back from the kiss, his hands still cradling her face.

“Oh please,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too much for it to have any impact. “You make it sound like you’ve dreamed about this a lot.”

“What? Never. Not even once,” Ben said, innocently. “I don’t think I even know who you are, what’s your name again?”

Even though he was joking, it might’ve been the biggest lie he’d ever told. As if he hadn’t thought about it all those nights when she’d refused to talk to him, so close and still so far away.  Like it hadn’t been in the back of his mind since the day he met her, walking into the training room with her blonde ponytail swinging behind her and eyes like cornflowers.

“What time is it?” Beatrice muttered, glancing around sleepily for a clock. She noticed her shirt lying on the edge of the bed where she’d tossed it and snatched it up, pulling it on before snuggling back down next to Ben.

“I have no idea,” he said, pressing his lips to her temple. “Does it matter?”

“Probably not,” she smiled, closing her eyes. “It’s just, you know. Someone’s going to wonder where we are eventually.”

Ben’s face darkened at the thought. He had honestly forgotten about everything else, about the whole complicated world outside. Their organizations _definitely_ would not be happy to find them together, especially considering the fact that neither of them were dead.

“You shouldn’t stay here,” Benedick said, brushing a few stray hairs behind Bea’s ear.

“What?” She mumbled, furrowing her brow in a way that was so adorable he found the words dying in his throat.

“I... I mean...Bea,” he stammered. “I _want_ you to stay, don’t get me wrong, but they'll find you. _Robbie_ will find you.”

She must've heard the concern in his voice, because her face softened. She leaned close to him, nudging her forehead against his and making his brain go fuzzy.

“I hope he finds me,” she whispered, smiling. “I'll kill him.”

“You always say that,” Benedick grinned.

She laughed, quietly. A bubbling, joyous laugh that Ben couldn't believe he'd gone so long without hearing.

Beatrice was a spy. She had to be cool and collected at all times, it was just part of the job. Benedick saw her scowling far more than anything else, and he loved it. He loved her ferocity and strength, and the way she didn't let anyone tell her what to do.

But this Beatrice, this smiling, happy Beatrice who was gazing at him with light reflected in her shining eyes, this was something completely different. It made him love her more, if that was possible.

“You are right, though,” she said, stretching her arms up towards the ceiling and looking around the room. “We’re pretty much asking to be caught if we stay here.”

“We could hide in the Bencave,” Bendick suggested, cheerfully.

“Oh sure, that’ll buy us a couple of seconds.”

She kissed him again, softly, then rolled out of the bed.

It was almost impossible for Ben to wrap his head around. Hadn’t they been on missions to kill each other only a few weeks ago? And now… now things were falling into place better than he ever could’ve imagined.

“Bea…” he began, “what are we going to do?”

“Hmm?” She asked, pulling on her clothes as she found them.

“I mean, you know. About this?” He ventured, a little nervously. “Us?”

Beatrice paused, looking over at him with a small smile on her face.

“It feels like forever since we’ve been ‘us,’” she said, wistfully.

“Yeah,” Benedick smiled back. “Too long. So… I suppose we need some kind of plan?”

“Definitely,” she agreed, turning her gaze back to the room. “Just let me finish getting dressed. Have you seen where my pants went?”

She looked over at him, only to see that he was grinning like an idiot.

“Do you remember that time you took my pants off?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, funnily enough I _do_ remember that, Ben,” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes.

“No no, two weeks ago,” he corrected. “After you _shot me in the leg_.”

“You’re bringing this up _now?”_

“YOU said,” he continued, undeterred. “You said I’d make some joke like ‘ _I always knew you wanted to get into my pants_ ,’ and THEN you said, and I’m quoting here, _‘you wish.’”_

“Your point, loser?” Beatrice asked, bemusedly. “Clearly I was _right_.”

“No, you said it sarcastically! YOU didn’t think it was going to happen.”

“I didn’t even think you were going to be ALIVE much longer, dickface.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, crossing his arms contentedly.

“Well why don’t you put some pants _on,_ and then we’ll talk,” Beatrice said, shaking her head but grinning all the same.

Reluctantly, Benedick pulled himself out from under the covers and started getting dressed. By the time he pulled on his last sock, Beatrice was still looking around the room, annoyed.

“Honestly though, where are my jeans?” She said, her hands on her hips. “Did you see where I threw them?”

“I have to admit, I was a bit distracted.”

“Fair enough.”

“Should I take my pants off as well?” Benedick asked, innocently. “That way, we’d be even.”

“Mountanto, if you’re hiding them, I swear to god,” she laughed, “you will be in SO much trouble.”

“Oh, I think he’s already in trouble,” came a dark, snide voice from the doorway

Beatrice froze by the edge of the bed, Ben still sitting as Robbie entered the room fully, glancing around with a look of disgust.

Benedick’s heart beat fast in his chest, why hadn’t they thought to bring any _weapons_ up from the Bencave? Rule number one of being a spy, always _always_ have something to defend yourself with.  Although that rule was generally followed by rule number two, _don’t fall in love_ , so apparently they were just crap at following directions.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Robbie snarled, spinning a long, crooked knife menacingly in his hand. “You make me _sick._ I would’ve expected this from one of them, but you Mountanto?” His arm moved faster than either of them expected, the knife swinging towards Ben’s neck.

Beatrice screamed, but Robbie had stopped his momentum just in time, the blade pressing up against Ben’s skin. Ben breathed in sharply, feeling the cold metal bite his neck. “I can’t wait to see the look on John’s face when I tell him just how right I was,” Robbie said, leaning down so his face was level with Ben’s. “Still, I thought you would’ve known better than to go sleeping around with a _slut_ like her.”

Beatrice moved so quickly Ben barely had time to process what was happening. She reached over and grabbed Robbie’s wrist with one hand, twisting it hard. He cried out, dropping the knife neatly into Ben’s lap. Ben grabbed it, but Beatrice was already two steps ahead of him. She kicked Robbie squarely in the stomach, sending him reeling backwards into the wall.

“You… bitch…” he gasped, clutching hisabdomen **.**

“Hey,” she grinned, “at least I’m not getting my ass kicked by somebody in their underwear.”

In one smooth movement she grabbed the porcelain flamingo sitting on Ben’s bedside table and smashed it over Robbie’s head. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.            

Bea took a deep breath, glancing down at her right hand. It was bleeding, cut open by a piece of porcelain. She turned to look at Ben, her eyes wide.

“Are you okay?” she asked, quietly.

Benedick stared at her in awe. He got up from the bed, letting Robbie’s knife fall to the floor as he reached for Beatrice, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her close.

“I love you,” he whispered. He hadn’t even meant to say it really, but it was ringing a thousand times over in his mind.

“You do?” Beatrice asked, bringing her uninjured arm up to hug him back.

“Beatrice, I think if I loved you any more I would literally fall over and die.”

“That would be a lot funnier if you hadn’t almost died five seconds ago.”

“Well, that’s your opinion.”

“I love you too,” Beatrice said softly, and Benedick felt like his heart was expanding in his chest like a balloon.

“Your hand,” he said suddenly, pulling back from the hug as he remembered. “Oh wow, Bea…”

“It’s fine, honestly,” she insisted, but Benedick reached for it, holding her hand up to the light. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it ran all the way across her palm and it was bleeding profusely.  

“God,” she mumbled. “That is a _lot_ of blood.”

“Don’t go fainting on me,” Benedick deadpanned, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “I think there are some bandages in my bag, let me just-”

Something rattled the window.

The two of them spun around like lightning, bracing themselves for what was to come…

“Ugh, you really need to get better locks,” Meg said, toppling through the space where Ben’s window pane used to be. “I mean, I didn’t even have to pick that with a big knife, or anything.”

Bea sighed in relief, while Benedick still looked worried Meg might stab him.

“Honestly Ben, is there anyone who CAN’T break into your house?” Beatrice asked, crossing her arms and wincing as she remembered her injured hand.

“Guys, thank god…” Meg began, but she trailed off, her eyes widening as she took in the entire scene. Her eyes moved from the bed, to Benedick, to Bea’s obvious lack of pants.

“DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS?” she cried excitedly, throwing her hands in the air. “NOW YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING.”  

“Well… Robbie came to kill us and I knocked him out, so now he’s staying over there until we figure out what to do with him. That’s all,” Beatrice said quickly. Ben couldn’t help but notice that she was blushing.        

“Oh my god, you are BURYING THE LEAD HERE,” Meg insisted, smiling mischievously. “Beatrice… did you get the Bene- _dick_?”

“ _Meg._ ”

“Did you guys take the midnight train to bone town?”

“Oh my _god_ , can we not do this now?” Beatrice asked weakly, but Meg was insistent.

“Come on, how was it? Scale of one to ten,” she said, giggling like a crazy person.

“I am not doing this with you.”

“I don’t know, I think Meg’s asking a solid question,” Benedick added, grinning.

“Don’t you start with me!” Beatrice said, turning to face him. “I could easily give you a one.”

“You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“Meg, why are you here?” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Meg looked like she wanted to argue, but as she considered Bea’s question her expression grew solemn.

“John’s coming for you,” she said, simply. “Him and all of ARAGON. Pedro sent me ahead to warn you, but they know you’re here, and you’ve pissed them _all_ off.”

Beatrice looked at Ben in alarm, her wide eyes full of fear.

“Bea,” Benedick said, making his decision before she could get a word out, “run away with me.”

It took her a few seconds to fully process what he’d said, her mouth hanging open.

“... _What_?” she managed, finally. “To where?”

“Anywhere,” he said, sincerely. “Anywhere you want to go, just _away from here_.”

“It’s… I… we can’t just pick up and leave!” She sputtered, throwing her arms in the air.

“Beatrice, we’re spies. The ability to pick up and leave is _literally_ in our job description.”

He stared at her, hopefully. It was really the only option, running away. Ben was sure that a happy life for them wasn’t possibleat MESSINA right now. Maybe if the two of them died tragically their organizations could learn to bury the hatchet and get along, but that wasn’t exactly the sort of ending he wanted. He wanted to do things with his life, travel and explore and learn, and he wanted to do it all with Beatrice.

She still hadn’t responded. She was gazing at him with a peculiar look in her eye, and it was starting to make Ben nervous.

“Unless… unless you’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Or, if you didn’t want to go with-”

Beatrice stopped his mouth with a kiss, standing on tiptoe to reach him and making him forget whatever he was going to say next.

“So, I’m going to take that as a yes?” Benedick asked as she pulled away.

“Absolutely,” Beatrice smiled, resting a hand on his cheek. “I’m _done_ not being with you.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Meg called, peering out the window gravely. “Any other day this would be my jam, but we’ve got company.”

Beatrice and Benedick locked eyes.

“Anywhere?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Anywhere,” Ben agreed, taking her hand.

“I can buy you some time,” Meg said, unstrapping the pockets and pouches on her tool belt. “Just get out of here.”

“Are you sure?” Beatrice asked. “Meg, we can-”

“Just put on some fucking pants and _go_!”

Ben started towards the door, retrieving his bag from the corner as Beatrice grabbed her jeans from under the bed, pulling them on before going to follow him. She made it almost all the way to the door before she doubled back, running to hug Meg tightly. It was a dangerous idea, given the number of knives Meg kept on her person at any given time, but somehow it all worked out.

Benedick saw her whisper something he couldn’t quite hear. When Beatrice pulled back from the hug, Meg’s face was full of glee.

“You’re _shitting_ me,” she said. “That’s too high. No. Way.”

“Way,” Beatrice smiled. “See you on the other side, I guess.”

“Yeah, get your ass out of here, Duke,” Meg said, eyeing the window anxiously. “You two take care of each other, okay? Now GO.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

“What was that about?” Benedick asked as Bea took his hand and pulled him out of the room.

“Oh, nothing. You know,” Beatrice said, innocently. “Girl stuff.”

“Knives and grappling hooks?”

“Something like that. Please tell me you’ve got a secret way out of here?”

“Oh, completely.” Ben walked her over to the back of his apartment, where an enormous and truly ugly painting was on display. “I call this, _the back door._ ”

He reached behind the painting, twisting a handle to make the hidden door pop open. Beatrice glared at him, completely unimpressed.

“You _cannot_ just hang a crap painting over your back door and call it a secret exit.”

“Watch me.”

“You’re killing me, Ben,” Beatrice said, but her eyes were smiling at him. He grinned back.

“Not if I can help it, love.”


	9. Epilogue

Nearly a month went by without a single word from Bea or Ben. Hero never worried, though - if there were any two people who could be counted on to take care of themselves, it was them. Meg had told her everything that had happened that day, about Bea and Ben running away together, about Pedro and John’s showdown that had followed, and how John threw down a smoke bomb and slipped away in the middle of the fight. No one had seen or heard from him since that day, either. Meg and Pedro had taken the sudden reprieve to start training new members for their organization. They’d both asked her to consider rejoining, but she turned them down every time. She was done with all that. _Besides,_ she’d assured them, _I don’t think Bea and Ben are gone for good. They just needed a break._

She knew who the postcards were from before she even read them. Sometimes she’d get four all at once, sometimes she wouldn’t hear from them for several weeks at a time. They came from all over the world - Buenos Aires, Edinburgh, Paris, New York, Tokyo - she never quite knew where they’d come from next.

_hero - hello from scotland. ben’s on the hunt for the loch ness monster. i’ll let you know if we find her. wish you were here. xx bea (P.S. - THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT)_

_HERO! there are so many people in new york. TOO MANY, if you ask bea, who has been grumping about it all morning. i made her take my picture with a naked cowboy playing the guitar. truly amazing. lots of love! - ben (P.S. - THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT)_

_hero - i miss you tons. you’d love the library in buenos aires. it’s ENORMOUS and beautiful. (ha! BEAutiful.) someday we’ll come here together. ben found out there are flamingos in the andes mountains, and now he’s determined to find them. love you lots, lots, lots. xx bea (P.S. - THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT)_

They always ended that way - this message will self destruct - though of course they never actually did. Hero pinned them up on her wall and mapped their journey on a globe she kept by her bed. The first few weeks they were gone, she’d tried emailing them, but they all bounced back. They’d done a good job of covering their tracks - she wouldn’t be surprised if they bribed the post offices to hold onto their postcards for a few weeks before sending them, so they couldn’t be found or followed.

The final postcard came about a year after they’d left. The front of it boasted a picture of the pyramids, with _‘GREETINGS FROM CAIRO!’_ in enormous bubble letters across it. The message on the back was short and simple, but it was enough to make Hero’s heart soar.

_TO THE CROWN JEWEL OF MESSINA: see you soon. xx Team Blessed. (P.S. - THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT)_

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bet On It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645752) by [Lexiconicy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexiconicy/pseuds/Lexiconicy)




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